Oct. 20

Villanelle of the Poet's Road.  by Ernest Dowson

For the Sake of Strangers  - Dorianne Laux

What’s Broken by Dorianne Laux

The Word by Tony Hoagland

The Names of Flowers by Abby Murray

Cairns by Kitty Jospé

Nutshell:

Dowson:

In the in-person session, Judith gave a lovely background of Ernest Dowson, as one of the "decadents",  their reputation for absinthe, and the tragic death of both parents dying of TB (at that time quite common) and his own early death at age 32.  "Poor wounded wonderful fellow that he was, a tragic reproduction of all tragic poetry, like a symbol, or a scene. I hope bay leaves will be laid on his tomb and rue and myrtle too for he knew what love was".^{[10] Oscar Wilde.}

We discussed the almost comic way he makes fun of his own complaint, and although one could say the villanelle lacks power and vigor, David quoted the story of the critique of Maria Callas for sounding tired in her role in a Verdi opera, to which she replied:  I should certainly hope so... I worked for three months to sound tired!  

For the Sake of Strangers: 

Normally "for the sake of" is not connected to strangers... and in a way the title honors strangers--

which reminds me of proximity of "angel" in the French étranger and étrange which contains the word ange.  Perhaps each one of us is a "messenger" for the other, as a way of connection.  Several commented on the ghostliness evoked in the "empty body" and perhaps an underlying thought of suicide with the last line.  The opening generalization reminds me of Dorianne's earlier work, The Things we Carry, and 

"dull strength" evoked for some a sense of depression.  Who is this self that desires a stranger to

"keep her from herself"?  We commented on the gratuitous goodness of things that touch us.

Maura brought up how spot on this poem is for the pandemic... how being with people, no matter if strangers, allows us to feel more part of the world. Carmen mentioned how she looks at people and imagines their story... and Ken mentioned the fun of watching a school bus driver waiting for three kids. 

I shared the story of the women at the Open Door Mission (ODM) shelter who helped out a stranger, giving money, imagining them worse off or in a state where maybe they had been and a few dollars might have made a difference.  

What's Broken: 

Just in case you forget that the universe is a rather violent place, with black holes sucking up matter,

meteors crashing randomly to pockmark the moon, and that indeed... just about everything will one day

be broken, this poem provides a fine reminder.  People were reminded of a Tibetan sand painting, where

a beautiful work of art is carefully constructed, only to be blown away and erased.  As one of the women at the ODM shelter said, it is a testimony.  The discussion included associations, for instance with Elizabeth Bishop's The Art of Losing, or the second law of thermodynamics, John Donne, Edna St. Vincent Millay, the Zen acceptance of inevitable "decay is inherent is all components in all things"

or a sense of a "momento mori" when a painter creates images of all that will not last-- that lemon zest, the fresh shellfish, the small bubble at the end of a pipe, the smoke coming from the lit tip of a rope, etc.

One suggestion was to call the poem, "What's Beautiful", as like the poem before, many of the things mentioned  are treasures while they last.  The mother's necklace brought up poignant memories... and one can smell the parsley and mint... see the beauty of the white roots... which is a confirmation of the power of memory to keep things alive.

The blue cup fallen had a universal reminder of a broken heart.  I believe Marna reminded us that a broken heart is also free...   As for the cricket, a few offered the possibility of an unintended crushing the cricket... or maybe something as small, yet "possible" or still,

"unthinkable" in terms of what will be/could be/is broken. The enjambments emphasize the juxtaposition of "broken" and rose... (or later, the days, the night sky, star patterns) "glass" and knobs... last summer/pot of herbs; roots/shooting;  Even for those who felt it was not a positive viewpoint, the "moral" of finding and appreciating beauty comes through.

The Word:

The title carries biblical overtones... and carries on the theme in the two Laux poems of what brings us joy.

I love the humor of a "to do" list and the surprise of "penciled 'sunlight'" between green thread and broccoli, which could be penciled in as word, or a random appearance of actual sunlight... 

The enjambments between stanzas enhance a sense of waiting expectancy:  "sunlight"/resting..

pleasure/a thing//that needs accomplishing... love/no less practical than a coffee grinder/

or a safe spare tire.  The rhythm of the syntax flows easily, yet constantly surprises... Lovely 2-tercet opening; a short burst of a sentence pronouncing the word is beautiful followed by an almost 3 tercet  ramble of how it touches... with two elucidations with "as if..." following by a short burst of a question, "Do you remember". 

The turn at the 9th tercet, but today, emphasizes "the kingdom/still exists.  The final metaphor of

the telegram from the heart in exile carries a message for a universal you-- an invitation to hope

if you find the time to "sit out in the sun and listen".  

If you haven't pencilled in "sunlight" -- this might prompt you to remember it is there for the noticing,

and even on a grey day, not something you "do", but simply a pleasurable and often surprising gift...  

Names of Flowers: 

We do not know them... but taking the time to say how they "feel", smell, look... the visual synesthesia of the gold ranging from pineapple and honey,  the description of

their circumstances (in markdown buckets at Safeway)... and then the surprising juxtaposition 

of happiness and cheaper... this close to a dumpster!  The idea of leaving behind  a former self

who had no name for "what is both vital and necessary", is an elegant way of realizing the

vital and unnecessary serendipity of possible joy.

What is vital?  How wonderful that an unplanned, not classified as necessary "thing" or happenstance

is paradoxically a necessary ingredient that confirms something indeed vital.  

Mary brought up the pleasure she has imagining the story behind the person who buys a bouquet of flowers-- no matter for whom, what occasion... that vital and unnecessary act spreads its effect on the person buying them.  Maura brought up the Dag Hammerskøld comparison of happiness as a butterfly... 

unpredictably landing, not staying long.  He puts it differently:  "Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, seems always just beyond your grasp. 

Cairns:  a forwards-backwards poem where the first 5 lines repeat in reverse order, the last 5 lines

which provides a familiarity, yet small twist of difference, as if following a mountain path.

Stories of cairns included the problem of people creating new ones that might lead others astray, and Paul's marvelous story of creating a cairn with the capstone "Brennon" with his friend, which turned into

a tourist stop for travelers inviting a selfie.

Such a good feeling in both discussions, although a small "zoom" session.